


Yamcha's depression

by WeirdoAmla



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dark Thoughts, Depression, Reminiscing, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27301060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdoAmla/pseuds/WeirdoAmla
Summary: tw// Mild mention of suicidal thoughts.Yamcha has one of those days, the ones where you want to do nothing more but stay put in your bed and wallow in your own dark thoughts.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Yamcha's depression

It was quiet, very quiet.

Yamcha’s digital alarm clock blinked the time in bright red, silently, unlike analogous alarm clocks, that constantly ticked.

He was awake, for the most part. He was conscious and aware of the world, but his eyelids were heavy. He didn’t have the energy to open them, nor did he want to. 

After a horrible night’s sleep, he just felt like laying motionless in bed. His body felt exhausted, only having had roughly four hours of sleep.

Every time, the needed amount of sleep for Yamcha decreased in time. He could vaguely remember when he still needed a healthy seven hours. But seven turned into six, and six turned into five.

The deeper he fell into his depression, the less he could take care of himself properly. 

But did it all matter anyway? 

He was in his mid-thirties, but he had nothing to look out for.

He’d lost his main job, a job he really grew to like, baseball had become part of his life, but it was stripped away so abruptly.

It has almost been five years, but the messy break up between him and Bulma had impacted him harshly. 

They saw the end of their relationship coming, but the nostalgia and emotional attachment the two had got in the way of the inevitable conversation. In the end, instead of talking it out, the two turned to different people for some temporary comfort. But neither realised how much it would hurt them in the long run. 

A little Trunks appeared almost a year later, and the postpartum depression hit Bulma, while the extra weight also landed on Yamcha. 

Being dead for an extra year weighed harder on him than he’d expected. He was looking forward to being wished back to life, but for some reason, the realization that he was, in fact, dead, took a huge mental toll on the man.

Even King Kai and his two other friends that were there with him on the planet pitied him. None of them could help him feel better.

His return to earth was anything but smooth. The early depression that had formed was still there, nestled in the corner of his mind. And without doing anything about it, it allowed for the pest to grow and grow. Until Yamcha hit the further oncoming tragic events of his life only for the depression to turn into a parasite and swallow his mind whole.

Being dead, losing his dream job, losing his relationship, his ex having a child with the man that murdered him, and not having anything left to fight for, he wouldn’t mind if earth blew up tomorrow despite having fought hard in the past to protect it, Yamcha just said fuck it all.

He did finally go to check himself out, not being able to live the way he did anymore and was diagnosed with persistent depression. ‘What a surprise,’ he’d thought to himself.

Living with depression had become a normal part of his life by now, which was a concern, of course. He just took the pills because they were the one thing that kept him from going the worst route.

The worst route was always tempting, being dead didn’t sound so bad after all. He wouldn’t go to King Kai this time, would he go to heaven?

Is there a chance he’d go to hell?

Who knows, he certainly wouldn’t, yet.

He still had people to depend on, people depending on him.

He was still trying his hardest despite days like these where he’d rather rot in bed than wake up and be productive.

He knew he would eventually get up and start doing something, perhaps first eat, then take a shower. he would try a late afternoon jog instead of a morning one. But he would figure that all out later.

Right now he would like a moment to wallow in his dark thoughts.

It was so easy for time to pass if you’re not doing anything. Falling in and out of sleep so hours would go by without notice, it wasn’t always nice.

It added onto Yamcha’s occasional feeling of uselessness, even though he knew himself why he was incapable of getting up. That nasty voice in the back of his head was still always ready to insult him whenever.

  
  


He could really use a hug right now.

But that would require physical and social effort, and he wasn’t in the mood for that right now.

“Fuck...”

Yamcha could at least check the time. 

He slowly cracked his eyelids apart and took a peek at the glowing red numbers, which read “9:34”

He sighed, it was still so early, but normally he got up around 6 or 7 for his morning run. Guess he’ll try later at 4 in the afternoon, or something.

For now, he could lay down for another hour or two.


End file.
